


The Memoirs of an Outland Explorer

by WolfKing69



Series: Outland Inspired [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfKing69/pseuds/WolfKing69
Summary: Based on the posts by https://thehornyoutlands.tumblr.com/Warning for Extreme Fantasy and shocking ideas.  Read and look carefully.





	1. Chapter 1

Ethan William McCarthy was no fool. He had been born to the well to do McCarthy Family with a military background. About four generations ago his ancestor had helped push back sections of the Outlands to establish additional Safe-Zone Cities. It was a monumental struggle to increase the great bastion of Human Civilization….bla bla bla. God how Ethan hated that speech his father would give.

What Ethan knew was that the Safe-Zone was nothing like most of the fool peasants believed it to be. The truth was that despite the supposed morality and chaste in the Safe-Zone, sex ruled all. Since the creation of the Outlands and its hyper-sexual creatures, the primal urge to rut had controlled the world. Sex ruled the creatures of the Outlands. Sex was responsible for the protection the Safe-Zones had. Sex controlled the people, the creatures, shit Ethan wouldn’t be surprised to discover some of the racier creation stories were true.

Being from high ranking family allowed Ethan unlimited access to the truth of the Safe-Zone. As the fourth son of the family, Ethan had to make himself an asset or risk being given to the forcefield department. Power was something to be hoarded in the Families, and having too many heirs opened the door for infighting. So Ethan began hunting for something he could excel at to procure a position of power. Of all the things to cave him from the tender mercies of the Safe-Zone, it would be the Outlands.

Ethan excelled at many things. Complex problem solving, swordplay, magic, alchemy. By the time Ethan was 15, he had returned to the Safe-Zone with the corpse of a werewolf for the Science division to examine. By 16, Ethan had given the safe zone 2 tubs of cock leeches, 5 additional werewolf corpses, three vulpans, one ogre, countless rare magical herbs, and an expansion of the map of the known area. By 18, Ethan was the number one supplier of anything that had anything to do with the outlands. His main buyer was his eldest brother Daniel. Keeping Daniel well supplied with herbs and ingredients insured the McCarthy family had magic to spare. With magic and political power, Daniel improved the family standing and all he had to do was shelter Ethan from the more annoying would-be customers. The insane prices helped do that as well.

With time, and the ludicrous amount of money he accumulated, Ethan Constructed a home out in the Outlands. A huge complex, carefully warded, where Ethan could practice and create while it provided a base for the exploration.

The true pleasure didn’t begin immediately. No, that was when he met Vigash the Clan Orc.


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it begins

Ethan was well established in the Outlands now. Twenty-one years old and one of the most well-known explorers in the Safe-Zone, Ethan had decided to begin a new trek. The thirty miles surrounding his home might as well have been his stomping ground. Anything magical and sentient knew of him, respected him, or feared him. So, for the last three days, Ethan had been trekking his way directly north of his home. The Safe-Zone cities he supplied were south of him, reaching towards a coast line. In time, he would reach the Deep forest, though he had no intention of entering. Merely skirt the edge and gather intel. No matter how badly the higher ups of the City wanted the intel, Ethan would remind them that he was only as good as he was because of the intel already available.

Two days into the journey is when the true story began. Ethan was by now adept at camping in the outlands. Carefully placed wards in all six directions, north, south, east, west, up, and down. A sword at his side and a gun beneath the pillow, Ethan slept well if light. The first day and night was nothing special. A few forest thralls, but the spirits around here knew Ethan. He was useful to them, alive. Though Ethan did stop to milk a few of them. Easy power for the wards he would need.

On the second day Ethan came to a river that ran through this area. He refilled his water stocks, thankful for the small purifier he had. It would be rather disgusting to drink down a cock leech. It would die in his stomach acid but still...ick. As Ethan sat on the bank, enjoying the fresh air, he noted the birds quiet. The bushes one hundred meters to the east shifted slightly. Normally Ethan would attribute it to the gentle breeze, if the bush hadn’t moved in the exact opposite direction.

No growling, so it probably wasn’t a werewolf. The most likely was a vulpan. Ethan threw the purifier a dirty look and mumbled about slow pieces of junk. Let the creature think Ethan was an ignorant herb collector. He leaned back against a tree, grabbing his bag he pulled out a granola bar, leaving the bag between his legs. His tranquilizer gun was sitting just out of sight unless you were looking straight down. Suddenly, the purifier dinged, Ethan had just enough of time to worry that he would have to go over to maintain the illusion of foolishness before a great roar split the air and a giant green blur charged.

Ok, so not a vulpan. An orc, and a tribal orc from the markings on his arm. Crap this was gonna be tough. Orcs were one of the strongest creatures in the Outlands and sadly their intelligence was nothing to sneeze at. Adrenaline was a wonderful thing, as Ethan contemplated all this while drawing the tranq gun and firing three shots into the chest of the charging orc. Without pause Ethan grabbed his bag and rolled away causing the orc to brush past.

In three fluid motions that took perhaps 1.5 seconds, Ethan tossed the gun at the water purifier followed by the bag after pulling the collapsible hatchet he carried on these trips. Ethan forgot about his other supplies, the wards sewn into the bag against damage and notice would keep them safe. By the time the orc had slowed enough to turn Ethan had grabbed the pommel of his scimitar and flicked the sheath into the pile with his bag. Now armed, the orc took a moment to contemplate his enemy. This was a mistake. Clearly the warrior believed the shots to have been grazes or ineffectual against his “superior physique.” That meant that the drugs had even more time to work through his system. The Orc stood at 6’ 10”, a relatively average height for his kind. His skin an almost forest green with sharp brown eyes, His markings a deep black that displayed tribal markings including eldritch symbols and animals. He seemed to favor the wolf. Probably a hunter then.

Ethan slowly took a step back causing the Orc to smirk. McCarthy fought not to roll his eyes, orcs and their foolish notions about bravery. Let the orc believe he was afraid. Ethan was busy planning how to get out of this mess. Probably best to let the drugs take effect, grab his things, and run. The orc shifted about to take a step, so Ethan muttered a swift spell, causing water to pool in the ground. One step forward and SPLAT! Oh! That split had to hurt. Ethan started laughing, and the orc started snarling. It took the Orc at least three tries to stand. All that time and the drugs had begun to take effect. The orc probably didn’t realize it but Ethan could see the sluggish movements beginning. Finally, the Orc advanced on Ethan, swinging what to the orc was a long sword, to Ethan, an over large great sword. The fist downward swing received a deft dodge to the left followed by a light smack on the arm with the flat of the scimitar. The upwards swing took a hop to avoid. The final move, a lunging thrust forward, took a step to the right before Ethan hooked the blade with the indent beneath the hatchet’s blade. One sharp twist and jerk had the sword spinning out of the Orcs grip, landing several feet away. The orc glanced at the sword, clearly determined to retrieve it, before punching his palm, trying to intimidate. Ethan rolled his eyes, smirked, then took one step forward, faking a swing with the hatchet. When the orc stepped away, Ethan brought the scimitar up and drove the pommel and guard into the Orc’s temple. He dropped like a rock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Scene~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vigash woke to a terrible throbbing in his head. It felt like a Behemoth had used his head for fighting practice. Suddenly. Vigash’s eyes shot open. The HUMAN! What had happ-. He was there, just a few yards away sitting on a log by a fire, Vigash’s sword on his lap. The sun was low in the sky, meaning several hours had passed. Vigash tried to stand only to find himself bound to the tree he was sitting against.

“I see you’re awake orc,” the human said. His gaze was steady on Vigash who averted his gaze.

“Yes...master.” The human’s eyes shot up. “What?”

Vigash swallowed before nodding, “You won. I am yours.” The human stared for several seconds before clapping his hand over his face mumbling, “Idiot. How do you forget that?” The human stood, Vigash’s sword in one hand and his own in the other. The huma...Master, strode over and said, “You are mine?”

“For as long as I draw breath.” Master kept his eyes on Vigash, seeming to see into his very soul before he brought his small sword down in a lethal stroke. Vigash’s arms dropped as the ropes binding him snapped. Master took a step back, allowing Vigash to stand. Once Vigash had worked feeling back into his arms and legs, Master twirled the longsword, offering it Vigash. “My name is Ethan.” The orc took back his blade, bowing slowly to his new master.

“Come, I made stew.” Vigash nodded and once Master sat, Vigash knelt to his right as appropriate. Master Ethan allowed the spoon to fall back against the pot, grabbing Vigash’s black hair. “I will have many uses for you. But I also know what you are worth. Sit.” Master Ethan nodded towards the second log across the fire, releasing Vigash’s hair. The orc nodded and moved to sit. Master Ethan placed a bowl of stew into his hands, fish and wild roots.

“Name.”

Vigash’s gaze snapped up to Master Ethan, “Vigash.”

Nodding Ethan responded, “I may shorten that to Vi when I call for you. Is that acceptable or does it violate your culture in some way?” Vigash shook his head, “In your language my name means silver slash. It is a name given to a warrior or scout with quick sword arm. If you shorten it as such you would be calling me silver.” Master Ethan nodded

The two sat in silence and ate slowly. Finally, Master Ethan spoke. “I suppose I should inform you what I do. Only fair to know what your life will entail. I am a hunter and gatherer of the Outlands. I was once the son of a prominent Safe-Zone Family. But being the youngest meant I had to make myself useful to the family or risk being tribute to the needs of the Cities. So, I learned magic, swordplay, survival skills, and braved the Outlands to make a living. And in a matter of years I became the best Safe-Zone explorer. So, what you did for your tribe, protection and providing is about the same as what you will do for me. Though I admit I didn’t know there was an orc tribe in this area.”

Vigash replied while considering his master, “We have only been here a few days. We were forced from Deeper in the forest by one of the Ancient Beasts. We figured that we would have an easy time in these woods. Thought we may all end up as yours. Tactics, magic, and weaponry, you are truly a master of the Outlands.”

“You flatter my Vi.” Vigash smiled at his master’s acceptance. Then he frowned. “Master. I am yours to my last breath. As my superior it is my duty to serve you. I have no right but I must ask you for one thing.” Master Ethan raised an eyebrow, silently indicating Vigash to continue. Vigash sank to his knees “I should go with you immediately and serve, but I beg you to allow me to return to my tribe and gather my greatest treasure.”

“And what is your greatest treasure?” Ethan inquired.

“My infant son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read, kudos, review. I love it all


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's clear things up. And get home

A small jolt was the only sign of the sledgehammer of shock that had just struck Ethan. “Your son? Explain”

  
Vigash breathed deeply before speaking. “A little over a year ago the son of our chief was taken on a hunting trip to begin to learn the skills necessary. Battle, tracking, hunting, trapping, all that. He was older than average because he had shown an aptitude for magic. He had spent a few years with the Sha

man learning the basics. So, this fifteen year old orc is taken with us, he’s eager to prove himself. I think he imagined himself like you. Capable of mixing magic and battle.”  
Vigash took a breath, gauging if his subtle praise had pleased his Master. A small uptick of his lips was the only Sign Master Ethan gave. Controlled, very controlled, but at least Vigash knew a few things to placate his lord thank the Ancestral Horde. “I don’t see how this relates to a son.”

  
“That comes later.” Vigash swallowed and continued, “So there he was, this brave little shit. Very eager to learn, soaked up the training at a good rate. And then the idiot decided he had to prove himself.” Master Ethan snorted, Vigash nodded. “I imagine you can guess where this story is going. So, the chieftain’s son goes off to the north, thinking he would come back with some trophy. Well I was the first to notice he was gone, about half an hour later. Tracked the little fool until I found werewolf hair. Foolish boy had seen it too and decided it would be his victory. What he didn’t realize was it wasn’t alone. So, he ends up disarmed and running for his life from a pack of about 5 wolves. He made the only good decision of that day when he started charging back towards camp. So, I find him, and the wolves, and save his life.” Master Ethan waited a moment then made motions for elaboration. Thank the ancestral horde Master Ethan seemed calm. His master was looking better and better as a Master. “I know a few magic tricks.” Vigash motioned to the symbols on his skin. “I can purify water, light small fires, create a light, and a few other things. So, I overpowered the light spell, blinding the wolves, then set small fires to catch up the wolves. I put them out later.” Vigash took a breath and a drink.

  
“After that I got a reward as thanks. The wolf markings to commemorate my actions, and one request of the chief. I’m sure children work similar in your cities, requiring a magical ceremony. I had dreamed of having a child, and gathered many of the components needed. It was actually a simple request.” Vigash rubbed the back of his neck. Ethan’s gaze flowed off into the middling distance.

  
Vigash began stuttering, “I realize that…It’s not in your interest to...He is of no use to...Please master?!” Ethan came back to the present staring at the Kneeling orc. “Oh, get up.” Vigash returned to the log. “How long would it take you to collect your son?”

  
“If I left now I could have him and be back by mid-morning.”

  
“Can you survive night in the Outlands?”

  
“The reputation of orcs helps.” Master Ethan nodded.

  
“Go and be back soon.” Vigash nodded and stood, making a running start into the night

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Change Scene~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Vigash crashed through brush and bramble. Sweat poured down his face as he worked to come to terms with the new development. He was a slave. He was a slave and his son would become a slave when the tribe learned of his shame.

  
Vigash had dreams of his son to gain power in his tribe. His own renown would open many doors for his son. Vigash’s magical ability would be passed on to his son. He might gain an apprenticeship with a shaman, become a great warrior, marry into a strong family. Now, his son faced nothing but life as a slave.  
Not if Vigash had anything to say about it. M-Master Ethan seemed like a decent man. He had accepted Vigash’s request to retrieve his son. He was strong, intelligent, skilled. If Vigash took Rogan with him, if he left him there. Vigash shook his head. He had made his choice. Vigash slowed his step, taking a deep breath. His son would have a future. He would be strong. By orc law, Rogan would be raised as a slave, but orc law didn’t say where Rogan was to be raised. Human’s grew attached to children that they are around. Vigash would take Rogan with him. Hopefully, Master Ethan would take a shine to the little one. He could grow strong.

  
Vigash continued to trek through the forest, working to find some calm. In time, he came to the edge of his tribe’s encampment. It was dark now, and most of the encampment was asleep, only a few scouts as lookout. With the recent move, the camp was somewhat disorganized. All the better. Vigash lowered himself, and slipped into the camp. His tent was near the outer ring, as he was a single hunter, but respected. Within, Vigash summoned a very dim light and looked around his tent. There at the side was Rogan, swaddled in some furs, hanging from a special hammock he tribe used. It was deep and ensured the little one would not fall out. Vigash took a deep breath, and looked around the tent. Picking up his pack, Vigash picked up some of the leather around. He rolled his daggers, his hatchet, arrows, quiver together in the leather, and shoved them in his bag. Then he packed some water in a canteen, and some of the herbal milk for Rogan. Then Vigash glanced down at the stone he used for an end table. There, sitting innocuously, was a small stone with half-finished runes carved into it. It had been intended to be a magical focus. It had come from a quarry near their old home. Its story was half of its power. Slowly, he placed the stone, the size of his palm, into a secure pouch. Then he leaned down and secured Rogan in a sling on his chest. He smiled down at his sweet strong boy. That was it, everything in the tent of use or importance. Vigash ran a hand gently through his son’s hair. Then he wrapped some spare furs up and made it look like his son was still in the hammock. Slipping out of the tent, Vigash moved through the encampment and into the trees, sword out. Vigash had never taken Rogan out into the forest before. He had dreamed of taking his son on his first hunt, this was not what he had in mind. The trek back to Master Ethan’s camp seemed to take an eternity compared to the journey to his...his old tribe’s camp. The sun rose over the hills, and Rogan shifted in the sling, staring up at his father. Vigash grabbed the herbal milk and fed his son, gently rocking him, singing a soft song. To be honest, the song was more to comfort Vigash than Rogan.

  
Finally, as the sun crested the hills, Vigash entered the clearing where his new master was set up. Ethan sat on the same log as last night, as if he had never moved. A pan hung over the fire, strips of meat frying away. He motioned Vigash over. Vigash moved closer and dropped to his knees before Master Ethan.

  
Ethan rolled his eyes as Vigash spoke. “I have returned Master. Thank you for allowing me to retrieve my son.”

  
Ethan snorts, as if it was a big deal. “Let me see the little tyke.” Vigash hesitates for a moment before moving the sling. Rogan stares up at Ethan. Ethan reaches a hand down and runs a single through the babe’s hair. Rogan suddenly giggled and gripped Ethan’s finger with a strong grip. Not surprising for an orc child. “Oh, you are adorable little guy. Don’t worry, I’m gonna take good care of your daddy. He’s gonna be just fine.” Vigash bowed his head submissively. “He’s going to be a great help to me. And I’m gonna look after him.” Ethan drew back. “Eat something Vi. then we can return to my home and get you settled.” Vigash nodded and took some food, returning to his seat on the log when instructed. He ate swiftly, and fed Rogan a bit more milk.

  
“What are you feeding him?” Ethan inquired. Vigash explained it was an herbal mix along with the milk from one of the few goats the tribe kept. Vigash had had to trade meat and fur for the milk. Ethan shook his head and asked if Vigash knew what herbs. When Vigash nodded Ethan said, “I can probably find those easily enough, grow some. Plus, I have plenty of milk for him.” Vigash nodded again, unable to say anything.

  
Eventually, they set out, with Ethan questioned his newest slave about his skills, orc culture, Rogan, and how Vigash would serve Ethan. Ethan knew he now owned Vigash, and There was a very short list of things Vigash would refuse if commanded. Ethan could already imagine taking this orc to his bed, forcing his cock don his throat, his ass. But that would come later, for now, Ethan needed to get his newest housemates home.

  
It was a two-day trip when Ethan had first come out here, but that had been at a leisurely pace. In a rush, it could be done in one. But Ethan considered the small bundle on Vigash’s chest. Moving that fast, the baby complicated things. They packed up the camp swiftly and set off. “You prepared to let me carry your son?” Ethan broke the silence not ten minutes after they had moved out. Vigash stumbled a step and then hurried forward opening and closing his mouth. Ethan rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how your tribe will react to your loss, and his. Even if they accept it, that's a defenseless baby in the wilds of the Outlands. I would rather take as few risks as possible. So, I can carry him occasionally, let him get use to me, and ease your burden.”

  
Vigash closed his mouth and considered for a moment. “That is...acceptable Master.” Silence returned as the two set a good pace through the forest. Every three hours they swapped Rogan back and forth. The little orc was very well behaved, staring up at Ethan with interest. Ethan and Vigash kept a good pace, each watching the trees, fearing reprisal from the beast of the Outlands. Their concerns meant that as the sun was setting Ethan mentioned, “If we keep this pace we could probably reach my home by the deep of night. Or we can camp and reach it in morning.” Vigash considered it for a moment then shook his head.

  
“Let us push on. We can make it.” Ethan nodded and the picked up the pace. It was just after the sun had set that rustling set the men on edge. Rogan was with Ethan who lit a fire on his hands. Vigash drew his sword, pointed it at the shivering bushes. Slowly, Vigash advanced, steel and fire in his eyes, when suddenly a reddish-orange head was poked out of the bush. Vigash tensed, while Ethan sighed.

  
“Mayhem you truly live up to your name.” the vulpan slowly snuck out of the bush sniffing at the air. Vigash began to move between Ethan and the creature. “Don’t bother. He isn’t a danger.” Vigash turned his head minutely indicating he was listening. “It’s Mayhem, one of a pair of vulpan’s that live around my home. They get to play around the house, and don't cause too much chaos. They are as close to domesticated Vulpan as you can get outside the cities.” Vigash lowered his sword to a more relaxed stance but did not sheath it. Mayhem lopped forward. “Hello Mayhem, there anything dangerous around?” The vulpan sat down and flicked his ears. Ethan snorted and relaxed his shoulders somewhat.

  
“You trust this creature?” Vigash asked.

  
“We have a mutually beneficial relationship, so somewhat. Of course, the little trickster does love his pranks. So be vigilant.” Vigash nodded at Ethan. Mayhem lopped closer and began sniffing at the bundle holding Rogan. Vigash tensed, clearly a moment away from throttling the creature. Ethan let him sniff for a moment before tapping the vulpan on the nose. “That is Rogan. He will be staying with me, and he is not to be played with. At all.” The last portion was said with steel. The vulpan considered for a moment before looking over at Vigash. “That is Vigash, Rogan’s father,” Ethan answered the unasked question. “You are welcome to try.” Ethan clearly knew how that would work. Mayhem moved over to Vigash and began sniffing around his legs. He began to move upward but Vigash stepped back, growling lightly. “Behave you two. Mayhem, we need to get home, before something happens to Rogan. Vigash, be nice, he’s around all the time so you gotta get use to him.”

  
“Yes master.” Vigash nodded. The small group began moving, with Mayhem slipping in and out of the brush ahead of them. Ethan moved to walk beside Vigash and threaded his fingers in his dark hair before gripping firmly.

  
“Keep walking,” Ethan ordered. Vigash grunted and tilted his head back, baring his throat as he marched. “Perhaps I wish you to entertain my vulpans. Would you prefer to fill their holes? Or be tied down and made their toy?” Vigash whimpered softly, his cock chubbing up.

  
“Whatever you command Master,” Was moaned softly. Ethan chuckled and reached down to stroke the slowly growing erection.

  
“Such obedience. That will be rewarded.” Ethan smiled and released the erection, Vigash’s breathing a bit heavy. He moved forward, after Mayhem who had paused to watch. Vigash took a deep breath in and followed after his new master.

  
About five minutes later, Ethan brushed aside a branch and they stepped into a large clearing. A house and barn sat on the land. Vigash felt the ward brush over his skin as he walked forward and stared at the two-story house.

  
“Welcome to the Farm Vigash. Your new home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read, Rate, Review. Please and thank you


End file.
